


say you're falling apart

by camphollstein



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camphollstein/pseuds/camphollstein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love used to create, but now it destroys oh-so-slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	say you're falling apart

**Author's Note:**

> A very brief try at grasping how Carmilla feels. Title from Mads Langer's 'Fact Fiction'.

Every word that leaves her mouth is agony.

The way it bounces off the shelves and fills the strange silence that sometimes falls onto the library and catches around your ears. Any time she answers questions or the simple clearing of a throat bring a horrible, desperate pain.

It'll never be over between you two, not truly. But it feels like it, when Laura refuses to meet your gaze, and disappears to corners of your camp-out for hours. She speaks little even to LaF, content on sitting by them as they try to work a way out of some science problem; but she says even less to you.

You wonder that's what it'll always be like. Painful silence.

It's not your fault, and you know that. But you want to make her feel better, so much, but you can't do that anymore.

She still smells like herself. A bathroom appears sometimes behind a Sci-Fi shelf, fully stocked. Laura's wet hair glints the same way under the old lights, like liquid gold. Sometimes you let yourself think of how it is better than any painting you've ever seen.

Love hurts the same as it did first, when you threw yourself at a god in grief; but now you know how her face looks when she's waking up, how her skin feels under your fingertips, how she smiles and moans and writhes beneath you. That loss- the loss of them, hurts more than you thought possible. And to have her here, close enough to touch, is a burning iron straight through your chest.

Heartbreak seems like such a small word for it. But it does feel like someone destroyed what you had left to break. You're an open wound at all times. The parts of you that sung a million arias now have grown quiet, stuck in the moment where the symphony stops and you realize the concert has ended.

Selfishly, you wish Vordenberg had killed you. The certainty of a true death would be preferable. In days where you stay at the philosophy aisle, surrounded by things and writers permanently erased from Earth, people who were older or younger than you, people you've met; you wish for that emptiness too.

But then you return to camp and a rare smile has returned to Laura's face as she listens to LaF, and, God, you must have done something good in this wretched existence. The ache of her presence is a thousand times better than the despair of her loss. So you stay, for the world must keep this bright, holy soul, even if it has to kill you bit by bit. You'll follow her to the ends of the Earth and back again; a fool in love.


End file.
